Checkered Tissue Box of Wisdom and Sadness
by UnfathomableEnigma
Summary: Legolas dies in the battle of the Black Gates. Aragorn is devastated... happy ending, though, I promise! Any reveiwers get a virtual cookie baked especially for you by Elladan & Elrohir, Legolas, Aragorn, Glorfindel, Fili, Kili or Gimli (You pick from my favs, YAY 4 U!) Read my other LotR stories of you love Aragorn and Legolas!


**Checkered Tissue Box of Wisdom and Sadness**

"Laddie! Laddie, where are you!" Gimli calls, not knowing that the one he calls for lies but a few feet away. He was searching for the elven prince of Mirkwood, though the one he looked for preferred it to be called "Greenwood".

"Gim... li! O-over here!" Legolas lies on the ground. Blood pools rapidly around him as the wound in his stomach bleeds profusely. "G-get Aragorn." the dwarf kneels beside his pointy-eared companion. He gasps, dashing off in search of the one man who could help their dying friend.

"ARAGORN! ARAGORN! ARAGORN!" He screams. The man turns as he hears his name. "Aragorn, it's Legolas! He-he's hurt... badly!" Pain flashes behind the man's normally emotionless eyes. It almost seems as if he is feeling everything Legolas is: pain, loneliness, sadness, haziness and anguish.

"Where is he?! Gimli, where is my brother!" Gimli jumps forward. He hurriedly leads the extremely distressed man towards his dying friend. When they reach him, Aragorn takes no time in launching himself onto his knees beside his comrade.

"Oh, Las, I'm so sorry." He pulls the elf so that the blonde head leant back against his shoulder. Blood trickled down from the corner of the elf's mouth as Aragorn tried to support him.

"Ara- Aragorn?" Legolas coughs, falling into a violent spasm of pain as the orcish poison raced through his bloodstream. His back arches as he continues to scream loudly, the desperate sound echoing over the battle-field with a sickening familiarity. "Estel, it was poisoned."

_Estel? _Gimli thinks; he had always wondered why Legolas had called Aragorn that. But, then again, it was just like "Las", a pet name for the one you called brother.

"I think we've established that, _mellon-nin." _The new king of Gondor replies while he strokes the elf's hair. Legolas chuckles at this.

"I ca-can't hold on much longer." Legolas' faint breaths now come in rapid, shallow gasps. His pulse was erratic and he shivered with fever.

"Gimli, go find Gandalf! He can help us!" When the dwarf remained frozen, the man became desperate. "NOW!" Gimli scurries off in the direction of the wizard. "Las, you have to hang on, Gandalf will be able help us.

"No, Estel... I'm fading." He coughs again, body jerking in Aragorn's arms.

"You were the b-b-best brother ever; y-you were always there, the first person I went to whenever I needed help. Ever since you w-were young, I just knew that we would be best friends. G-Gondor could not wish for a better k-king; I'll watch over you, I promise." His breathing quickens, then slows as he regains control of his failing heart. "The Valar calls me... I must go." His eyes close.

"No Legolas! Stay with me, don't go! Arda needs you, your friends need you, your family needs you, _I_ need you! You weren't supposed to die, you were meant to sail to Valinor! You can live in the castle, you can have your own wing! Your own garden! I promise, and I won't break this one... if you _just_ _hold ON! _Stay with me, please! _Gwador-nin_, please... _saes!_ I need my best friend!"

"No, E-Estel; I'll miss you greatly." Then, he went limp in Aragorn's arms. His bright, blue eyes glazed over and his head lulled back against Aragorn.

"No... NO! Legolas, come back! Don't go, I need you here, with me! I need you to help me, to guide me when I need guidance! COME BACK!" He smashed a fist down onto the elf's still chest. The body jerked in response, but fell back -limp- once again. The man hugged his dead friend to his chest, praying to the Valar that his friend would jump up and laugh at the dumbstruck ranger as he realized that it was all a big joke.

But that didn't happen. Legolas remained prone in Aragorn's arms.

"Laddie?" Gimli asked, kneeling beside the ranger.

"We're too late." Gandalf bent forward in a bow as he mumbled faint words of remembrance to their dead elf. "His father will be upset to know that his only son and heir is now dead." _No he won't._ Aragorn thought. Thranduil hated his son.

"We should bury him." Gimli places a comforting hand on Aragorn's shoulder. Now, a steady river of tears flowed down the man's cheeks and fell onto the dead elf's tunic. His brother was gone, never to return to this world; death had separated them, even though it was not supposed to end this way. Legolas was supposed to live forever, Aragorn was supposed to die. This wasn't to happen!

"Yes, we should," Gandalf replied. "Aragorn, come. Gondor needs it's king." The ranger nods, picking the elf up -one arm under his knees and the other supporting his torso- and following the wizard and the dwarf toward the great city of Minas Tirith.

"It'll be okay, laddie; he's in a better place now." Gimli rests a comforting hand on Aragorn's shoulder. Glancing dow at the elf's body, he sighs. "He didn't deserve it."

"No, he didn't. But he got it anyway."

* * *

Legolas had been placed in a large, wooden tomb and the body had been decorated for the funeral. Thranduil had been informed and was currently on his way to pay his final respects to his son. Frodo and Sam were in the healing rooms of Gondor, unconscious but healing well enough. Merry, Pippin, Gimli and Gandalf celebrated their hard earned over Sauron at the local bar. Aragorn was almost dreading their return.

Currently, the soon-to-be-crowned king of Gondor was on his way to his royal chambers. Arwen had yet to arrive and he had no-one to entertain him, considering that his usual source of joy -Legolas- was lying dead in a tomb downstairs. This thought would've sounded humorous to anyone else besides the lonely ranger. But the pair had always joked about ditching each other's funerals so as to get a head start on their grave-dancing routine.

These thoughts caused the man to chuckle; Legolas had first come up with that many years ago, when they were about to be killed by Sauron on the borders of Mirkwood.

Ah, good times...

Sorta

Not really, though.

Nevermind.

* * *

The door to Aragorn's room opened with a creak and the handle had cobwebs growing off of it. This room had not been visited in a long time, the king's chambers, Denethor had not been allowed in. On the neatly made but not generally clean bed lay a checkered tissue box. On it was written _The Wisdom of Legolas, great Prince of Mirkwood. _

"What on the face of Arda is that?" Aragorn mumbled to himself. He picked up the box, flipping it lightly in his gloved hands. There was a note attached to it, addressed to My Brother.

_Estel,  
You were an amazing brother. You're only reading this now because I knew that I would die on this quest. Ada knew it too, we said goodbye before I left for Rivendell. I tried to act normal around but I know that you noticed my change in __behavior as well. Every moment I spent with you I cherished, every memory we made, I put in here. This is our box, filled with my wisdom and your sadness -hopefully- at my untimely death.  
Please don't be angry with me, I did this for you. We spent many years as brothers; many years that I know you'll remember until you come to join me in the halls of Mandos.  
I will be waiting, gwador-nin  
Las_

It was true. Inside the box was all the wisdom and memories Legolas had ever cared to keep in that great, immortal mind of his. His heart was in this box, his soul; left behind so as to accompany his brother through his ruling years. You could tell then as could have before: Legolas loved his brother more than his own life.

Aragorn kept his friends box by his bed every night. Sometimes, it was creepy to know that Legolas was present, but it was always comforting.

* * *

His brother never lied. When Aragorn died, Legolas greeted him in the halls of Mandos. He looked the same as he had over 100 years ago: young, handsome, lithe and strong.

"Hello, brother." He greeted, pulling Aragorn into a tight embrace. Tears of joy tripped onto the ranger's shoulder as the elf cried. "I missed you so much, Estel. Never live through my death again, okay!"

"Alright, alright, _gwador-nin_, if you insist." Aragorn stroked his best friend's hair, pulling him into yet another embrace.

"So, how fares the land of the living?"

**THE END**

**_Gwador-nin_- my brother  
_Mellon-nin_- my friend  
_Arda_- Middle Earth**

**I don't think tissues existed back then, but it was the first thing I saw when I was trying to come up with a title... please don't judge me!**

**Don't forget to review!**


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